Page 29 of Polly

Chapter 7

Flynn

Flynn’s head throbbed. Expecting to wake up alone, he groaned and stretched. He smacked someone and quickly realized there was a human-shaped ball of warmth in bed beside him.

His eyes flew open. There was definitely a woman in his bed. Shit. Was she a groupie? How drunk had he been? Had he used a condom? Would there be press?

His head pounded, but he tried to focus and glanced at the figure beside him.

Polly. He’d spent the night with Polly. No sex. He breathed a sigh of relief as the memories poured back. He hadn’t gotten drunk and slept with a groupie, after all. Flynn had done that when the band first started and thought he’d moved past it.

Warmth filled his chest and made him smile as he watched Polly sleep. She looked so peaceful. He tugged her closer and snuggled his face into her hair. The hotel’s rosemary mint shampoo tickled his senses. He inched his nose down further and pressed it to her neck. Mmm. Vanilla and something distinctly Polly. He inhaled deeply.

She stirred and murmured. Flynn pressed her body to his and quietly sang to her. Her warmth comforted him and dulled the throbbing in his head. Quickly, they both drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Polly’s cell phone rang, waking her and Flynn. Drowsily, Polly fumbled for her purse, which had fallen off the bed. She pulled the phone out and looked at the screen.

“Unknown caller,” she said. She declined the call and tossed the phone on the bedside table.

“What time is it?” Flynn asked.

“1:24.”

Flynn rubbed his face and sat up, hanging his legs over the bed. His head throbbed, and he definitely had cotton-mouth.

“We need alcohol,” he rasped. “My head is killing me.”

“Ugh, mine too. I’m all for some hair of the dog.”

“I wonder what room service offers.”

Flynn stood and shuffled to the closet, where he riffled through his duffle bag. He found his glasses and pushed them on, then he crossed to the phone at the bedside table which sat between the beds. He picked up the room service menu from beside the phone and thumbed through it.

Flynn said, “Cool, you can order anything from the hotel bar, plus they have an in-house kitchen for meals. I’m going to order drinks and lunch. Any requests?”

Polly shook her head no.

“Hmmm.”

Soon, he’d ordered a bottle of rum, plus Polly’s favorite meal for lunch: cheeseburgers and fries.

Flynn deposited his glasses onto the bedside table and crossed the room. He pulled a couple of small bottles of alcohol from the mini fridge, then returned to Polly. He climbed into bed with her and handed her a bottle of whiskey. Flynn had tamped down yesterday’s jealousy, but he would definitely need some of that alcohol. He opened his bottle.

She opened her bottle and tapped it with his.

“Cheers,” she said before downing the bottle whole. Flynn did, too.

They both laid back and rested in silence, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to dull the throbbing in their heads.

“Who called?” Flynn asked after a few minutes.

“Oh, I don’t know. It was an unknown number.” Polly checked her phone. “They left a voicemail.”

Polly pressed her phone to her ear and listened, a frown forming on her lips.

Flynn didn’t like it.

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